


Non-Entrapment

by stephanericher



Series: 31 Days of Horoscopes [15]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-28
Updated: 2017-01-28
Packaged: 2018-09-20 12:03:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9490217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stephanericher/pseuds/stephanericher
Summary: 1/26: Today you may receive some information about how to increase your income in a short period of time, Aquarius. This information may or may not be valid. Be cautious. Check out the facts before committing, wait a few days, and then check them again. Great opportunities abound and should be explored, but what you hear about today might not be one of them.





	

**Author's Note:**

> so this 31-day challenge is based on the wonderful [31-Day Horoscope Challenge by @icandrawamoth](http://archiveofourown.org/series/621022). Simply: read your horoscope for the day from horoscope.com (Aquarius for me); use it as a writing prompt.

Shougo’s half-asleep before homeroom when he’s roused by the word “basketball”. (It’s only because they might be talking about him, not like he’s obsessed.)  
  
“Some guys down at the park play every weeknight.”  
  
Shougo opens his eyes, just a crack; it’s one of those brown-nosing kids he does his best to avoid. Why would he be interested in a streetball tournament?  
  
“For money?”  
  
“Yeah. They play basketball for money.”  
  
It’s a strange way of reiterating that, but whatever. Those guys don’t seem too interested in doing it themselves, just that it’s happening (probably shocks their pure and innocent hearts or some crap like that), so he just might check it out and see if the competition’s any good. Most likely no, but worth a try and if nothing else he could use some extra money here and there.  
  
“Haizaki-kun, nice to see you in class today.”  
  
Oh, it’s the class representative. He rolls his eyes at her and leans over to glance down her shirt, and she whacks him on the side of the head with a rolled-up notebook and begins scolding him for his absences until he tunes her out and she gives him a disgusted look and walks off. When he finally turns his attention back to the other kids, their conversation has already switched to some boring television show, and Shougo plops his head back onto the desk.  
  
He’s still got the possibility of streetball in the back of his mind walking home, but when his brother practically accosts him when he gets in and says it’s his turn to make dinner, all thoughts of getting anything else done tonight go out the door. There’s always tomorrow, and he’ll probably be a little less tired.

* * *

The next day they’re still talking about it, even louder (or maybe it just seems that way because Shougo’s mostly awake and trying to daydream about that hot barista at Starbucks he’d been trying to sweet-talk into giving him a free latte). Shougo turns to glare at them for interrupting his quality imaginings, but they’re already looking at him and instead of glancing away or glaring back they actually seem happy, as if this is what they’re trying to achieve.  
  
Their voices grow even louder, and this is starting to sound an awful lot like they want him to go find this place. But goody two-shoes kids like that (hadn’t one of them mentioned once that his dad was a cop?) would never want to play ball with Shougo. They’re not even on the basketball team; Shougo’s pretty sure they hadn’t even tried out (not that he really remembers tryouts). He rubs his eyes and thinks about the Starbucks barista asking how much foam he wants. Maybe the kids are baiting him for something. Do they want him to ask about it? Maybe it’s some dumb entrapment scheme.  
  
He still might check it out if he has time, though. It might be nice to have new people to swindle.

* * *

Shougo goes to basketball practice that day, if only so he can grab a fresh games schedule from Ishida (who acts his usual distant-but-disapproving and gives him one in the end). The shoot around is boring, but better than wandering around or getting roped into doing household chores by his brother would be, and Mochizuki buys him Starbucks afterward (unfortunately, the hot barista’s gone home). Shougo texts his brother that he’s going to a friend’s house for dinner and heads to the arcade instead and tricks middle-schoolers into buying him rounds of DDR on the condition he beats them.  
  
Night falls, and it’s then Shougo passes by the park. He’s got his hands buried in the pockets of his hoodie, his elbows jutting out so he takes up the whole sidewalk. He moves into the shadows as he approaches the court; it’s illuminated by the flickering streetlights but there’s no one here yet. So it’s just a lazy, stupid prank where they want him to ask them about it tomorrow, and they’ll laugh at him because he fell for it? This isn’t second grade anymore.  
  
He ends up staying out too late again trying to find a bar that will let him in and a girl who will listen to his pickup lines for more than five seconds, so the next morning is another one he plans to sleep through. He gets to school on time and slumps into his seat and closes his eyes, kicking over his schoolbag.  
  
“Did you hear the cops busted some old drunks gambling on the basketball court?”  
  
Shougo cracks one eye open. It’s those kids again.  
  
“Yeah, that was my dad. He’s on the late shift.”  
  
Interesting.  
  
“I thought I’d heard about some stuff going on over there…but that’s kind of boring. It’s not, like, a whole gambling ring they’re trying to hush up?”  
  
“Nah. It really is that boring.”  
  
Fucking amateurs. Shougo wonders if they’ve ever heard the term “entrapment” before, but it probably doesn’t matter. He’s not going to be obvious about it and mention it; those little weasels will worm their way out of it and decide it means Shougo’s admitting to something he may or may not have done, and he’s not going to fall for that shit. He sits up and reaches for his bag, rifling through it for a piece of paper. He tears it out and crumples it into a ball, and then winds up and throws it across the room.  
  
Perfect. It whizzes over the head of the kid with the cop father, hits the wall, and bounces into the trash can. Shougo grins, making sure to direct the expression at the trash can and not at the kids. But he can see their faces in his peripheral vision, staring in fear and horror at him. Shougo’s grin threatens to split his face open, and he leans back and kicks his feet up onto the chair in front of him. Fear takes a deeper hold on the two dumbasses, and they look away from him and back at each other. Mission fucking accomplished.


End file.
